


Tilt

by ebbet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Ginny Weasley, F/F, Fainting, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied Sexual Content, Lesbian Luna Lovegood, Mild Angst, Mild Gore, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Canon Compliant, The Bi Who Lived, it's about the hands, just wanted to make sure I tagged it, scientist Luna, the violence is mild and short I promise, toothpick gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebbet/pseuds/ebbet
Summary: Luna Lovegood hasn't seen Ginny Weasley for years.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	Tilt

**Author's Note:**

> for A, who said she'd always love more linny.
> 
> {{unbeta'd; lmk about typos, etc.}}

Luna tilted her head. Things often appeared different from another angle. A rather hackneyed thought, but Luna had to tilt to be able to see it—or to see it to be able to think it? Or tilt it in order to think it? Whatever way round it was, she had to move her way into it. 

But the entire problem with Ginny was that she didn’t shift. She was solid. A burst of flaming hair and bloody knuckles. A hoarse voice. Immovable freckles. Solid shoulders. 

No matter which way Luna tilted her head, Ginny was the same.

Not that she was stable. Luna had seen the rage, the snot, the snapped hair brushes. The way Ginny drew into herself as Dean slotted himself into a seat just a few away from his former girlfriend. How she pulled her hair into a chignon in preparation for the Yule Ball with Neville. She laughed as Luna tried to explain how she and Harry were friends attending Slughorn’s, only friends, just friends, exceptional friends.

Balled fists and chipped nail polish.

And then it was Ginny’s engagement party. One hand wrapped around a champagne flute, the other laid across Harry’s suit sleeve—perfect nails. A soft pink. Curtailing the tomboy untidiness of the rising Quidditch star into the femininity of a sparkling diamond. 

She’d heard it was an old Potter heirloom. 

Or had Luna read that somewhere? 

She tilted her head and considered the bubbles streaming upwards in her champagne. Defying gravity. But bubbles always did. Sometimes muggle soap bubbles went down, but that seemed more dependent on wind than gravity. Of course, everything was drawn down by gravity, even if only infinitesimally, even magical objects, but bubbles— 

“You came!” 

Luna blinked and looked down at the hand now on her arm. Ginny smelled the same. She tried not to breathe in too much or too hard.

“I haven’t heard from you in ages,” Ginny said with a small pout. 

“I thought I hadn’t heard from you in ages,” Luna said. 

One red eyebrow rose. 

Luna’s heart was going very fast and very slow at the same time. This seemed like it was not a good thing. If it was even possible. Or is that the subjunctive and therefore were? 

“I’m not the one who went off to America to get a fancy science doctorate.” Ginny tilted champagne into her mouth. Soft. Gentle crimson.

“You’re famous,” Luna said. “You have a lot of—”

“Fans don’t count, sorry, babe,” Ginny said. “I miss you. I’ve had to become friends with Pansy fucking Parkinson. That’s what you’ve done to me with this whole living on another continent shit. She’s not half bad. Doesn’t believe in snorkacks, though.” She tilted her champagne glass towards Ron’s wife but it was slightly too far and champagne slopped onto her peach silk skirt.

“Damn.”

Luna moved her hand and the spots disappeared.

The red eyebrows rose again. 

“A wand in a physics lab would raise eyebrows.” 

“Ah, right, Dr. Lovegood,” Ginny said and giggled. “Abandoned the magical world to deal with quarks—” 

“Q-bits.”

Ginny waved a hand. 

A waitress proffered a canape platter. Luna took one. Ginny smiled a declination. 

“You look nice,” Ginny said at last. 

Luna looked down and was almost surprised that she was wearing shoes. At least they were the same shoes. Buying dissimilar colors helped. These were the burgundy oxfords. Heels. That was professional. No more turnip earrings. She missed those. But one couldn’t be quite so—well, when she had tenure. She’d slip all this camouflaging off and slip right back into her patchwork coat. 

“We’re adults now,” Luna said. “It’s much less colorful than I expected.” 

“It’s more hot yoga and pantyhose, isn’t it?” 

“For some people.”

“Well, for me, at least until this goddamn wedding.” 

“I don’t know if I’ve ever bought pantyhose.”

“Black tights are basically the same, babe.” 

Luna stared down at Ginny, wondering at the hard tone. “I wasn’t saying I was above pantyhose, you know,” Luna said lightly. 

Ginny looked away. Was that a blush? A flush? 

Luna looked for Harry, ensconced between Hermione and Ron. Just like old times. But nothing was like Hogwarts, she thought and viciously bit down on the canape.

And a fucking toothpick stabbed her in the cheek. 

Cue blood everywhere. Spurting. Ginny’s peach bodice dappled in red was the last thing Luna saw before everything started going spotty and all the voices sounded far, far away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Luna smelled her before she opened her eyes. She held onto the moment and breathed in. Once. Twice. Just floating through what could have been, what might have, and opening eyes now. 

Ginny’s worried face broke into a smile. “What the fuck, Lovegood!” she said, but her voice was suffused with warmth. “Are you trying to ruin my engagement party?”

“Not on purpose,” Luna said in a small voice. That was a lie. She’d have loved to do it consciously. But she couldn’t with a clean conscience. “I’m just an idiot.” 

She tried a grin. Her cheek hurt. She put one hand to it but it was smooth. Pushing slightly down on her own flesh, she pressed her tongue against the inside.

Ginny smacked her hand away. “Don’t do that. Mum did a healing charm. It looks fine.”

“It doesn’t feel fine.”

Ginny burst into laughter. Her laugh lengthened into gasps and then she was sobbing, pressing her tears back into her eyes and blinking at the ceiling. But those measures didn’t hold up against the deluge.

“Are you—” Luna struggled to sit up. They were in some kind of fantastic bathroom. There were five sinks. Infinity mirrors. The hair on the back of her neck rose. Mirrors facing mirrors. Far too revealing. Far too— 

Ginny gulped and rubbed her face, drawing the smoky eye down her cheeks. 

“Are you ok?” Luna asked. 

“It doesn’t feel fine,” Ginny said. “I kept hoping it would be fine. If I just did everything, you know, ticked all the boxes—” she slammed one fist into her palm. “But it hasn’t worked.” 

Luna tilted her head. 

“Nothing’s worked since you left.”

Same old Ginny. Red eyes, balled fists. One peach silk strap slid down her shoulder. 

“Since I left?” 

She leaned back on her heels and huffed a strand of red hair out of her hair. It settled back in front of her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Luna reached forward and tucked it behind her ear.

Ginny turned her face into Luna’s hand. 

She kissed her palm.

Her heart was going fast and slow again. 

“I—”

“We’re—”

“You’re—”

It was pounding in her ears, in her throat. Ginny blinked up at her through wet lashes.

“You went away, and it was like everything fell apart.” 

Luna’s hand was still cupping her cheek. She knew she should move it. The diamond caught the light. The mirrors were closing in. 

“You’re—you’re engaged.” She pulled her hand back. “You’re with Harry. I live in America. We were never together.”

“I—” Ginny bit her bottom lip. 

“You were with Dean. You were—are—with Harry.” 

Ginny shrugged and there, Luna saw it. She withdrew into herself as she rose and went to the mirror, pulling the strap up over her shoulder. Using her wand to remask her face, to rewind her curls, to make everything perfect on the outside. Erasing the blood from the silk. 

Luna watched her in the mirror. Their reflections went on and on and on, blonde and red alternating into the universe. A universe of stars. Had she ever seen the stars as bright as that night after the battle? 

“I kissed you.”

Ginny stared into Luna’s mirror-eyes. Brown burning into blue. Luna pushed her cartilage hoop through her ear. Less conspicuous than hair twirling. 

“I kissed you, and you said thank you,” Ginny said. She turned to face Luna. Crossed arms. “Thank you.”

“Ah.” 

“And then you turned around and ran away. And then you went to America.” 

“I think you’ll find that Harry came and kissed you in between those two things,” Luna said. “That that was perhaps the reason for the latter.”

Ginny opened her mouth and closed it again, a flush spreading across her chest. One hand crept up towards her mouth and Luna knew she’d been trying so hard not to bite her nails but there, there it was, her old heart. 

Luna sighed. “I know I’m an idiot,” she said, pressing her tongue into her wounded cheek. “But when you kissed me it was like—my brain melted and I wanted you forever and I panicked and you hadn’t ever wanted me before so maybe this was just a—”

“Shut up,” Ginny said and stalked towards Luna. She glared up at Luna, who swayed. Ginny grabbed her arm and held her firmly. “You’re not going anywhere now.”

“I can’t kiss you,” Luna whispered. “You’re engaged.” 

Ginny looked down at her left hand, shrugged, and worked the ring off. 

“That’s not really, I mean, you’ve got to tell Harry, you can’t just unilaterally—”

Then Ginny pressed her lips against Luna’s and she was gone. It was like a blissful storm of glitter smothered all logic and she knew why literature was like that. 

Ginny leaned back. She stared at her. 

And then she started giggling, one hand pressing the ring into Luna’s arm, her other hand cupping Luna’s cheek. 

“I think I’ve got my own party to ruin,” she said just before leaning back into Luna to kiss her again. “I’ve just got to go, uh, return something.”

Luna stood between the mirrors, holding one hand to her mouth. She didn’t have to tilt her head this time. 

Ginny paused at the door. “You don’t have to want me. Or want to be with me. I’ve still got to return something.” 

She looked down at the ring in her hand. 

“Pity. It is pretty. But it’ll suit Draco better.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Luna gazed down at the figure asleep beside her. Red hair streaming across the pillow. Escaped from that French plait. A tear in the Hollyhead Harpies t-shirt under the arm. Ginny’s chest rose and fell with each breath. 

Such crumbs of happiness. Luna pushed her glasses onto her head and leaned over to kiss her wife. 

“Good morning, darling.”

Ginny groaned and buried her face in the pillow. Luna ignored her muffled grumbling and twisted her back around. 

“I’ve only got you for—let’s see—two hours before your international Portkey,” Luna said and nuzzled into Ginny’s neck, just breathing in her scent. 

Ginny tangled her hands in Luna’s hair and pulled her up for a proper kiss. 

“We’d better not waste time, then,” she said when they broke apart. 

“Time with you is never a waste,” Luna breathed. 

Ginny tilted her head and stared up at her. 

Luna’s heart was going fast and slow at the same time. But now this was normal. A beautiful serenity spread through her and she closed her eyes. The chaos of the last seven years blurred around the edges. The boxes had all gotten ticked. In a different order and by a different hand. 

“I think you have got a tiny scar from that horrible toothpick,” Ginny said as she squinted. 

“Blessed toothpick, my love. Blessed toothpick.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. 

Luna reached for Ginny’s hand and kissed each finger, lingering on the chipped nails. She was there. She was hers. She was solid and alive and soft and strong. And she was pulling her wife down into a kiss. 

“I love you,” Luna murmured into Ginny’s mouth. 

All she got in response was a moan. Roving hands. Shattering the morning silence. The story of those lives, these lives, what she had always wanted and never grasped and now would be in her arms for the rest of their lives. 


End file.
